Page 82 of On the Way to You
Grams told me she wasn’t scared with her last breath, and I squeezed her hand, telling her I wasn’t either.
It isn’t death that’s scary. It’s living without actually living at all, breathing without purpose, existing without essence. Soon, it will all be over, and I won’t have to apologize for how I feel, or explain why I feel it. I’ll walk into Death’s arms willingly with a smile on my face, and that cold embrace will be the warmest I’ve ever been.
I’m not scared.
I never have been.
I covered my trembling lips with one hand, the other still holding the journal as I shook my head in disbelief. Tears were running hot down my face, joining his already on the pages, the snow falling inside of me like a blizzard now. Every part of me was ice, the kind of cold that hurts, and all I could do was stare at that page, at those words, at the truth I was never supposed to find.
“What are you doing?”
My entire body shook at the sound of his voice, my fingers still on my lips as I lifted my eyes to his. He was standing in the bathroom doorway, towel tied at his waist, a menacing scowl branded on his forehead as he glanced at the journal before turning on me again.
Two more tears fell in sync, one hitting my hand as the other hit the page.
“You can’t…” I choked, a sob ripping through my throat as I tried to speak over it. “Please, Emery, don’t take your life. You can’t. Not after…” I shook my head, my emotions strangling me, rendering me speechless as tears flooded my eyes again before pouring down. I’d never felt so desperate in my life, yet so frozen. “Not after this. Not afterus.”
“This is my fuckingjournal,” he seethed, crossing the room in three sweeps before he ripped the book from my hands. He slammed it shut, shoving it back in his bag before standing to face me again. “What the hell were you thinking? Why would you ever think it’s okay to read that?”
“I was just trying to reach you,” I cried, throwing the covers off me and standing. I took a step toward him, but he backed away, holding a hand up to stop me from advancing any farther. “You’ve been so cold and distant since last night, and we’re running out of time. I wanted to know what you were thinking.”
“You should have asked.”
“And you would have told me?” I challenged, nose flaring as my stomach rolled on itself. I shook from head to toe like a pine tree struck by lightning, the snow falling away, the wood charred and naked beneath it.
“In time, yes.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
It came out as a whisper, my plea almost as silent as the snow falling outside.
“I thought you understood. I thought you were the first person to respect that sometimes I just need time. I was in that shower thinking of how I would tell you, and I came out here with all those words finally making sense, and then I find you with my fuckingjournalin your hands like it’s one of your goddamn books. I have never—“ He shook his head, hands flying up into the air. “How could youdothat, Cooper?”
My lips quivered again. “I’m sorry, I just… I was so desperate for you to come back to me. I thought I could find something…”
“What?” He took a step toward me, but I didn’t back down. “What could you possibly have hoped you’d find?” His eyes went wide, the words hanging there on his lips. “Wait…”
Emery swallowed, his eyes flicking back and forth as he ran a hand through his hair, glancing back at his journal and slowly finding my gaze again.
“This isn’t the first time, is it?”
I blinked, freeing another set of tears, guilt creeping up from my gut in a slow tide.
“Tell me you haven’t been reading my journal this entire time,” he demanded, his voice cracking as he moved into my space. His chest met mine and I looked away, eyes on the carpet as he towered over me. “Tell me!”
But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t lie to him any longer.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He blew out a breath of anger, raking his hands through his hair before letting out a frustrated growl. “It was all a lie. It was all a fucking lie. I trusted you,” he spat, and when I looked up to meet his eyes again, I wished I hadn’t. “Itrustedyou!”
“Please, it wasn’t a lie,” I pleaded, moving forward and into him. I tried to wrap my arms around his waist but he threw me off, making me lose my balance and fall back onto the bed. “Emery, everything between us is real. I invaded your privacy and I’m sorry, but I never did it to hurt you. I wanted to know you more, to understand you. I loved what I read in there. And I know that doesn’t make it okay but those are your deepest, darkest thoughts, and they didn’t scare me. They made me want you more.”
“They were never meant to be read! Do you not understand that?” He ripped clothes out of his bag, pulling on briefs under his towel before shedding it on the floor and yanking a sweater over his still wet hair. “You played this innocent card with me this entire time and all the while you were betraying me, stabbing me when I didn’t even know you had a knife at all.”
“Emery, it’s not like that.” I frantically wiped the tears from my face, standing again, desperate to gain composure and make him see. “I’m sorry, I never should have read it. I wish I could take it all back. But it doesn’t change the fact that everything between us is real. It has been since the moment we met and you know it. Iknowyou know it.”
“Yeah, because you read my fucking journal.”
“I did! I did read it, and I know how you feel about me.”